Pairings That Should Never Be Written
by cuddly carrots
Summary: Read title. Short little stories; please don't be offended if you see your OTP here-this is just for kicks and giggles. If something IS offensive, let me know and I'll see if I can fix it. I do not own Harry Potter. Warning: contents are disturbing.
1. Snumbridge

Snumbridge (Snape + Umbridge = vomit)

I saw this as a pairing one day and puked a little in my mouth. Then I got to thinking that perhaps I should give it a try. Love conquers all, right? Well, we'll see.

"So…what has my little Sevvie pie been up to lately?" Umbridge asks with that sickly sweet voice of hers, batting her eyes with a hungry glint upon that toad-like expression—a glint that has nothing to do with food, but everything to do with pie; pie that is of the Sevvie variety.

"Dear Godric, woman! I told you to desist in calling me by that wretched name!"

"And why, my dear pet? What is so wrong with calling you Sevvie pie?" Umbridge licks her lips, tongue curling as if ready to snatch a fly right out from beneath Snape's oversized nose—approximately where his very own tongue happens to be, darting out to lick his ever thin lips in a manner only a little more subtle than that of the toad before him.

"It's degrading and…makes me…" Snape tugs at his collar, self-consciously, knowing full well the temperature of the diner has nothing to do with his discomfort. He looks around in the diner for a moment, paranoid old bat he is, and continues on, "It makes me…a bit…_hungry_…" Snape trails off and gains a gleam in his own eyes that has nothing to do whatsoever with food.

Not even pie could distract his intense passion for the creature before him, who giggles in a way that should never be used as a flirtation device, who tosses her hair, twirling a few of the rather short ends in an idiotic manner, sending waves of her (insert nasty smelling old lady perfume here) fragrance in her Sevvie Pie's direction.

Severus is no longer self-conscious about being seen by everyone (the waiter foolishly denied their request for a private room since they all had been taken, unaware of what dire consequences such a decision would bring about). No, he has eyes only for her—for him, they are not in a diner filled with people rapidly losing their appetites at their display of revoltingly sweet love. He sees not the stares of disbelief—they simply do not exist in his world. He only sees the eyes of his sweet, his heart's content and happily sung duet; the only one to have ever conquered the vinegar of his ever so sharp tongue (yet talented according to Umbridge), to have smoothed the edges around the chip on his shoulder with delicate hands (that Severus adamantly claims to be even more talented than his tongue), and every other disgusting cliché to have ever graced the pages of a two bit romance novel.

In other words: his _Dolores_. The thought of her name has him licking his lips seductively.

"And what exactly do you hunger for, my sweet?" Umbridge oozes with her disgusting voice, dripping with a nectar so sweet even honeybees feel their teeth rotting.

A man in the diner quickly stands up and rushes to the loo to expunge his stomach of what little he ate before Dolores and her Sevvie Pie were seated at the table next to him.

"You tell me, Dolores. How well can you deduce what it is your cunning Slytherin implies?" Snape says with a snarl that oozes not with vinegar, but desire. The possessive way he spoke does not go unnoticed, much to the diner owner's dismay.

"Oh, you never know with snakes, but I do believe that on occasions snakes are known to eat toads…when the hunger calls…satisfying their appetites…" Umbridge says breathlessly, leaning towards Snape, hungry gleam intensifying.

The people surrounding them don't know if they should be pleased they heard only clipped pieces of what Dolores said—her voice having been distinctly softer whenever she spoke her husky words—or to be mentally disturbed at the images implied with what tidbits they _had_, unfortunately, heard.

Mothers covered their children's ears—or at least, the few who had yet to do so did.

The restaurant cleared when Dolores started inching towards her Sevvie Pie (paying no heed to the table she was stretching over or the mashed potatoes in her bosom; not even caring when a button from her robes popped off. Button, oh button; please fasten up her bosom…).

Needless to say, the next time they went out, the interim waitress was ordered to seat them in a private room as the two love birds requested.

The End (and yes, I did vomit and bleach my mind after this)


	2. Snockhart

2.) Snockhart: Lockhart + Snape = Never

I think my Snumbridge was more…disturbing…and I don't particularly like this one as much, but I like the part at the end better, so…yeah….read and review and give me some ideas of more pairings that should never be written. They don't have to involve Snape, but he _is_ funny to write (in my opinion). Just thought it'd be nice to have an escape from all of the post-DH stuff that probably gets you crying like Moaning Myrtle.

"And why not? I _am_ devilishly handsome!" Lockhart smiles widely, light glinting off his shiny teeth.

"Because, Lockhart, I am not worthy of your handsomeness!" Snape scowls and presses his wrist to his forehead in a dramatic fashion.

"But that's okay, my Lancôme love! That's what _glamours_ are for!" Lockhart holds Snape by the shoulders, trying to get the love of his life to look him in the eye.

"No glamour will be enough to transform me into a man handsome enough for the likes of you! My teeth are worse than that of George Washington's!" Snape swivels out of Lockhart's grip and continues his vain (pun intended) attempts to run away from Lockhart.

"That's just fine, Severus Snape, my sexy Sephora! You might not be as brilliant at potions as me, but with my help, even _you_ could make a Polyjuice Potion!"

"But who would I change into? No one possesses enough beauty to ever match you! You are far beyond the depths of this world! I should kill you and set you free from the chains of slavery that bind you here!" Snape pulls out a dagger with a striking resemblance to that of Bellatrix Lestrange's and raises it above his head, taking aim for Lockhart's heart of golden, shiny hearts.

"No! It's okay, my Mary Kay! You of course would transform into me!" Lockhart quickly grabs onto Snape's wrist and prevents him from making a rash mistake.

"Of course!" Snape moves in closer to Lockhart. "You are just brilliant! Who else could be worthy of your beauty than you yourself!"

Lockhart smiles (of course, that annoying twinkle blinds everyone within a two mile radius) and nods. "Yes. I concur. I _am_ quite brilliant."

They look at each other lovingly for a moment before a terrible expression consumes Snape's face.

"Oh, my Lockhart! I almost killed you! Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?" Snape grovels at Lockhart's feet.

"Yes, my Maybelline! Of course I shall!"

"But no! I can't forgive myself! My Lockhart, my heart shall always be locked up with you!" Snape then takes the knife and plunges it into his heart, causing irreparable damage and dying within seconds.

"No! My cuddly Covergirl!" Lockhart extends his arms towards the heavens in anguish. "You've gotten blood all over my new shoes! Noo!"

The End.

Okay…so, here's an alternative to that. That was more of…Lockhart's reasoning for why they never would have worked. Here's Severus's:

Lockhart giggles behind a statue and rubs his hands together. Today, his riveting Revlon was going to fall for him for certain!

Snape walked by the statue, unknowing of the danger lurking behind it.

Lockhart pounced.

"Lockhart! What the Hell!" Snape bellowed and tried to remove Lockhart's hands from his buttocks.

"Snapey poo! I love you!" Lockhart sang and clinged tighter.

Snape looked down at the man whose fingers were digging into his butt cheeks, paled even further, put his wand to his own head and _obliviated_ himself.

Lockhart held Snape's unconscious body and cried.

For hours.

Starkers.

In the middle of the _hallway_.

There were several incidents of eye gouging attempts after classes let out in the hospital wing.


	3. Piddle

Percy + Voldemort = Whaaaaa!

Piddle

Percy Weasley is tied to a pole, no possible way of escape. He is tired, hungry, and Stockholm's Syndrome has set in.

"Well, if it isn't my little Prissy Weasley, all tied up?" Tom Riddle (aka: Voldemort) sneers as he states the obvious.

"You'll never get away with this, Tom! Never!" Percy struggles against the bonds, but to no avail. The Dark Lord (aka: Tom Riddle) must have used some sort of permanent sticking charm to adhere Pris…Percy to the rope.

The situation is dire.

"I don't think so, my little Weasel. I have big plans for you." He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (aka: The Dark Lord) smiled like the cat got the canary.

Percy gulped, feeling one thing, and one thing only:

Seriously turned on. The fire of a thousand burning passions blazed in his eyes, consuming his entire being.

"What kind of plans?" Percy asked, voice husky and deep and highly disturbing.

"Wouldn't you like to know, my little prude-y two shoes?" You-Know-Who (aka: He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named) caressed Percy's cheek with a pale, skeletal hand, and Percy did the only thing he could think of: he licked it. The Heir of Slytherin's (aka: You-Know-Who's) hand stilled for a brief moment before pulling back slightly only to return with a vicious _SMACK_!

"OW!" Percy screamed and flinched as Tom's (aka: The Heir of Slytherin's) hand returned to gently caress his reddened cheek.

"Not so fast, darling. We've only just began…" Voldemort smiled again (he really needs to stop too…he's freaking _me_ out).

They stared at each other for a few careful moments before Voldemort whipped out his wand (not _that_ one, you nasty!) and with a few careful waves, something happened that no one would ever expect.

"No! Not that! Anything but that, Master! No! Stop! St—" Percy screamed and screamed as Voldemort stared and watched with amusement.

"I haven't done anything yet, you twit." Percy stopped convulsing, looked around and blushed.

"Oh. Woops…" Voldemort chuckled.

"Never fear. The _fun_" (A/N I really gagged at that part) "Will begin, my Percy Pumpkin." And with that, Voldemort skulked up to the still bond Percy and began to attack him.

"Now you see what happens to impertinent brats who fail to obey my orders!" Voldemort screamed with glee and the Tickle Me Elmo Pleasure Feather tickled Percy on and on into the night.

To this day, his screams are still heard; echoing with a solemn creed of the horrors of Piddle.

That's all for that one. It's short…well, shorter than the other two. I wonder if perhaps I should change the order? Like, put Snockhart first and then Snumbridge? Because I have to admit, Snumbridge is very….disturbing….I mean, it disturbs _me_! And I freakin' wrote it! Well, again, if you have any ideas for some more Pairings that Should Never be Written, let me know so that I can try my hand at 'em. I think I might even try some canon pairings and some popular noncannon pairings, like…Snily, Draco/Hermione, Ron/Hermione, Luna/Neville (I always wanted that one to be canon…), etc. Let me know your thoughts and all. :D


	4. Lugrid

3.) Lucius + Hagrid = Nightmares

Lugrid (that even _sounds_ revolting)

"I ne'er tol' anybo'y this, but I've always 'ad a blon' fe'ish." Hagrid smiled coyly and winked at the long, blond sex machine in front of him.

The blond sex machine simply stared lovingly at the big hunk of (sexy) man in front of him.

"I'm sorry Hagrid, but I can't understand what you're saying. All I can focus on is our perfect chemistry." Lucius's eyes never left Hagrid's face as the beefy (in all the right places) man blushed a thousand shades of romantic crimson; red—scarlet—fuchsia—(to name three), and with each one, Lucius felt his heart growing further and further into their bond of sweet, true love.

"Aww, shu's! Yer jus' sayin' 'at!" Hagrid bowed his head slightly to look towards the ground, but his view was unfortunately obstructed by his belly.

"I have no clue what you just said, but _I_ _like it_," Lucius growled, "my dearest little Hufflebum." Lucius's eyebrows waggled suggestively.

Hagrid blushed further, and his heart nearly stopped when he felt something gently brush his hand (well…to him it felt gentle, Lucius was actually trying grab it and yank it forward). He clutched the blonde's delicate (and freshly manicured) hand in his and together they walked in the romantic atmosphere of Knockturn Alley.

"Oh loo'! Tha' bloke wan's us ter help 'im up!" Hagrid pointed with the hand that covered Lucius's, nearly throwing him into the air.

"Ah!" Lucius screamed and looked in the direction his lover was pointing in. "Hagger, dear, I don't think he wants us to help him up…" The man sitting in what smelled like his own feces smiled grotesquely.

He only had one tooth.

"No'sense! Course he wan's our 'elp!" Hagrid said and took (well…dragged) Lucius towards the man on the ground.

"Hagrid! No!" Lucius cried and did the only thing he could think of to stop the man he loved from making a horrible mistake.

He clutched Hagrid harder, gazed into the eyes nearly obscured by massive amounts of facial hair (conveniently ignoring the bits of breakfast that were tangled in some of the mats…especially the bits of Lucky Charms marshmallows that they had run out of two weeks ago), and gently stroked the man's cheek (well…it was more of a punch). With his quick actions, Lucius had grabbed the Hagrid's attention long enough for him to slow down and focus on the grey eyes. Grey eyes that to Hagrid were irresistible and he was unable to think of anything else. Lucius, having Hagrid's total attention, reached his other hand up (quite a feat, actually, with the weight of Hagrid's hand on it), grabbed the other side of Hagrid's face and…

And then, _Apparated_ them home to safety.

When Draco saw his father tangled up with Hagrid on the welcoming mat (because the Malfoy's _totally_ have a welcome mat), he fell down and foamed at the mouth and from there was swiftly sent to the Incurable Ward at St. Mungo's.

To this day, he remains there, forever haunted by the lewd memories of Lugrid.

The end.

I didn't edit this one too much, so feel free to point out any mistakes I was too lazy to fix. I already had this one mostly done, so don't worry, I'll still do your requests! Is it sad that of my stories that took hours/days/weeks to write and come up with plots, THIS is the one that gets the most attention? Anywho, if you have any more ideas, just let me know and I'll see what I can do—though I won't promise they'll all strike my fancy, I'll try to do at least one per reviewer. Oh, I also wanted to state that I don't own Harry Potter or anything of that world (woops…should've done that a bit ago), and that I hope you can somewhat understand Hagrid. It wasn't my intention to mock people with lisps/accents, however, I figured that since any honest efforts at trying to get Hagrid's accent correct would be pitiful at best, that it would be funnier to just go crazy with it. Thanks for reading! :D


	5. Drarry

Draco + Harry = Ha! As if!

Drarry (no offense to Drarry fans—this is all in good fun. If it makes you feel any better, I give you permission to write a fic with me dying in a terribly painful manner, my actual name is Patricia, so have at it if you so desire-plus, this one was a request and well...my mind didn't let it go)

"I hate you!" Harry cried and poked Draco in the chest.

"I hate you more!" Draco retaliated.

"I hate you so much, your mother hates you!"

"Well, I hate _you_ so much your father's in prison!"

"Take that back! That's completely unrelated!"

"Ha ha! You just called yourself illegitimate!" Harry stuck his tongue out.

"Did not!"

"Did so! You said your father was unrelated, meaning you're a bas—" Draco gripped Harry by his collar.

"I _dare_ you to finish that sentence!" Draco shoved his wand into Harry's Adam's apple.

"—tard!" Harry finished and spat in Draco's face.

"How dare you! You'll regret that!" Draco let Harry go and began wiping the spit off his face.

"I'm only telling the truth, Drake-y!" Harry taunted, batting his eyes innocently before taking advantage of Draco's inattention by sneaking behind him and grabbing his arms, pulling them behind his back.

"You know what else?"

"Potter! Let me go, dang it!" Draco struggled, but Harry simply transferred Draco's wrists to one hand and licked his finger, shoving it into Draco's ear. "Oh! That's disgusting! What the bloody hell is _wrong_ with you!"

"Oh, there's nothing wrong with me! I'm not the one whose parent was a house elf!"

"WHAT!" Draco cried and slammed Harry onto the ground. "WHAT did you say!" Harry was kind of scared.

"I said that your mum was so desperate for some action, she got jiggy with Dobby!" Harry spat in Draco's face again (he seems to have found himself a fetish…).

Draco saw red and punched Harry in the face, giving the dark haired boy a bloody nose.

"Take that back!" Draco cried, enraged.

"That's what she said!" Harry cried.

"Stop it!"

"That's what she said!"

"Potter!"

"That's what—"

Suddenly, Draco interrupted Harry by kissing him smack on the lips.

"What the hell!" Harry cried and threw Malfoy off of him.

"That's what your mum said last night!" Malfoy stuck his tongue out at Harry.

"My mum is dead, you idiot!"

"That's not what she said!"

"Quit lying!"

"That's not what she said!"

"Stop it, or else I won't make out with you for a week!"

"That's _definitely_ not what she said!"

"You pri—"

"Enough! _Avada Kedavra_!" Voldemort stepped in and killed them both. Shortly after, he was then hoisted upon someone's shoulders and paraded throughout the town in celebration. There was much rejoicing until it was found out that Harry and Draco became ghosts, and annoyed everyone else to their early deaths.

The end.

Well, here you go, Praedo De Antichristus. This was interesting…they almost worked out! Weird…and I'm not into slash! Oh well. It's been interesting writing this and seeing which couples actually work in an authorial kind of way…interesting and horribly creepy. I'm not sure if I can maintain my sanity. I admit, I was a little iffy about posting this one because I know there are a lot of Drarry fans out there and I didn't want to upset anyone…forgive me if I've angered you.


	6. Humbridge

Harry + Umbridge = Blech….

Humbridge

Dolores was sitting at her desk when she heard a knock at the door.

"Hem, hem! Come in!" She smiled wide when she saw the Potter boy come in. Tonight, she had something _extra_ special planned for him

Harry came in and glared at Dolores. Dolores smirked back, licking her lips with her toad-like tongue.

"Sit down, dear, and I have something…_special_…for you." Dolores smirked, but her glee was short lived as Potter simply huffed and charged her desk, swiping everything off of it with one attractive arm.

"I've tried to keep this from you, I've tried so _hard_ to hide it and cover it up; but no more!" He placed both hands on her desk and stared into the depths of her eyes, green flames of the strongest wild floo accident burning and crackling with _passion_.

Dolores gulped.

The boy took a deep breath, but was still panting, steeling himself for the next sentence; a sentence that she knew would change her life forever.

"Dolores, I _must not tell lies_!" Harry breathed, leaning into her ear and causing a shiver to run down her spine.

Dolores was flabbergasted. She immediately leaned back and cleared her throat—for _real_ this time.

"Hem, hem. Mr. Potter, I'm not sure if I understand what you're saying." She tried to regain her composer, but it wasn't working, what with the flush that had taken over Har—the Potter boy's complexion. She could tell that he was hot, no, warm! Warm! She may be sick, but not even _she_ would prey on a student.

Little did she know that the prey was her.

Potter smirked and quickly jumped on top of her desk, like a cat, smooth, swift and sensu—no! Definitely _not_ sensual! That would just be _wrong_! Wrong, wrong, wrong, _wrong_! Unacceptable.

"Potter, what are you—" But before Dolores could finish her panicked question, Harr—no, dang it! _Potter_!—had placed a finger on top of her lips.

"Shhh." He said, leaning further in, coming closer and closer and closer until he was whispering in her ear.

"Just let it be, Dolores." He whispered and softly bit, tongue rolling over and oh…it felt…it felt…

"POTTER! STOP THAT THIS INSTANT!" Suddenly, something smacked Harry on top of the head and he woke up, startled.

"Humbrijjj?" Harry asked, confused.

"Well, now that Mr. Potter has decided to join the land of the living…" McGonagall said, heading back to the front of the class with a large rolled up newspaper in her hand.

"Some dream you had there, eh?" Ron asked Harry quietly.

Some dream was right! He dreamed he was Umbridge and was being seduced by…Harry…himself? Maybe he needed to lay off the treacle tart…

Meanwhile….

"Hee hee hee!" Dolores giggled evilly as she spun in circles holding one of her hideous cat plates.

"It worked! Before you know it, the boy will be _mine_! The poor unfortunate soul!"

Another day, another request. Keep 'em coming! So, how'd you like the surprise twist at the end? You didn't _really_ think that Harry was actually willingly that sexy for _Dolores_, did you? If you did, then you just might be sicker than me! Lol, anyways, there you have it. "Humbrijjjj?" Now you can say that you've seen everything.


	7. McGlack

Sirius + McGonagall = Huh?

McGlack

Padfoot sniffed the air when he suddenly caught a most curious scent, so, being a dog _and_ a Gryffindor, he scampered around to figure out what (or who) it was.

He sniffled and snuffed and huffed and puffed, but no matter where he went, he couldn't find the marvelous creature (and he knew it was animate, otherwise he'd have found it by now) the smell belonged to. So, Padfoot did what he does best: he pouted and sulked, whining in a manner that would have irritated even the most patient of people.

"Rrrrraoooow!" A voice came out of nowhere, scaring the defeated dog. Padfoot quickly looked up and around, searching for the source of the noise, when he saw a small tabby, sitting in a rather sultry manner, licking her paw in a disturbingly attractive way.

"Woof!" Padfoot barked, but to his surprise the cat stayed; eyes looking straight into his own—looking into his soul—and then, when Padfoot remembered to breath, he realized that he found what he was looking for! It was a kitty—which was odd, because even in his human form, Padfoot wasn't exactly a cat person, but as a dog? Didn't dogs _chase_ cats? But tonight, it seemed to be the other way around, seeing as the tabby began to saunter up to Padfoot, paw after paw after sexy paw, closer and closer until the fur was tickling Padfoot's nose, making him sneeze with a violent passion.

"Mraow!" The tabby screeched and swiped Padfoot on the nose, making him whine. Well, Padfoot didn't just back down from fights _that_ easily! Padfoot sniffed the air and chased the delicious scent hovering in the air—so focused on the hunt that he ran into walls and corridors and ghosts and beings, mentally planning his revenge and subsequent ravishing, until suddenly he tripped, flipped and fell flat on his face, whimpering as he went tail over rear all the way down a stair case. Once he reached the bottom, Padfoot looked up, only to see the tabby smirking, licking its lips as she sauntered down the steps, sashaying her tail around like a ribbon dancer. Padfoot growled.

"Mowowowow!" The tabby laughed and plopped herself on top of the panting Padfoot.

"Oof!" Padfoot said as she knocked the wind out of him; for such a small and delicate looking thing, she sure could pack quite the punch. The cat looked him straight in the eyes and the world seemed to stop.

Forever and eternally stuck in this one moment when cat and dog stared each other down, breathing and panting and staring when suddenly—

"Aah! I've got you now, you little…oh." Severus Snape stood in the hallway, staring at the very awkward sight of Minerva McGonagall lounging out on top of Sirius Black—both very human and very…comfortable. He scratched his head and looked away from them, raising his wand to his head. "_Obliviate._" He said and collapsed.

McGonagall and Sirius watched as Severus fell to the ground.

"It's Lockhart all over again, eh?" Sirius said amusedly.

"I guess so. Anyways, where were we?" McGonagall asked, looking back into Sirius's eyes.

"A little game of cat and mouse." Sirius answered, smile crinkling the edges of his handsome face.

"Don't you mean cat and dog?" McGonagall asked with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Rrrrow! I like the way you think!" Sirius replied coyly.

Severus woke two more times and had to re-_obliviate_ himself, but the events still hide in his nightmares to this day.

The end…?

This one I'm not as happy with, but I had a headache when I wrote it, so oh well. Anyways, keep on coming up with stuff for me to write! I do have a list going and I do take what you guys say into consideration! I dedicate this one to WynterHexa and Tape Monkey. Thought I'd kill two birds, one stone, etc. I'm not sure whether I should be happy or disturbed that people like this so much, but thanks for all the support! :D Woohoo!

Lawyers Ps: Still don't own it.


	8. Sneter

Snape + Pettigrew = Say what?

Sneter

"So…" Pettigrew fidgeted in his seat at the fancy restaurant appropriately called, _Le Resturaunte de Fanci_.

"So…" Snape repeated, fidgeting awkwardly in his seat across from his date's.

The awkward silence stretched between the two socially inept men. Snape began to play with a salt shaker, resting his head in his hand as he tapped his fingers against his face, feet jittering like a pair of epileptic Chihuahuas.

"You know, we—erm," Peter swallowed thickly, "uh, do have a lot in common." Peter finally said, eyes glued to his pants as if afraid that they'd run away the instant he met Snape's eyes.

"Indeed." Snape continued to play with the salt shaker, spinning it around on his plate with those long, slender, sexy (*bonks self on head and says behave*) potion stained fingers.

"Well, erm, we both were socially awkward in school." Snape gave Peter a sharp look. "Okay, we both _still_ are socially awkward, if you want to be all technical." Peter pouted. "I'm just trying to make conversation here! Give me a break! I don't see you doing anything other than playing with that stupid salt shaker!" Snape continued to play with it, purposefully paying it more attention than his needy date. "Give me that, you git!" Peter snatched it away.

Snape looked up and glared. "Okay, fine! You want to talk about things in common, then fine. By. Me." Snape snarled. "How about the fact that we're both Death Eaters? That's something to be proud of! I bet eHarmony couldn't do better than that!"

""Well, Mr. _Snivellus_, how about the fact that we both stalked a half of the Potter couple? Huh?" Peter spat in his excitement, spittle flying and flecking with every word he spoke.

"Better yet, how about we both betrayed them and damned them to an early death? How's _that_ for compatibility!" Snape pounded his fist onto the table as people turned and stared at the two.

"I can do you one better! We both died of throat injuries!"

"Inflicted indirectly by the Dark Lord!" Snape snarled, leaning over the table and snarling in Peter's face.

"We're both ugly!" Peter cried, standing up (not that it made much difference…).

"Speak for yourself. I have an innumerable amount of fans who think I'm dashing." Snape winks at the cloud of crazed fangirls hiding in the restaurant. "As for you?" Snape pointedly looks at the asthmatic and pimply girl (at least, I _think_ it's a girl) breathing heavily into Peter's ear.

Peter jumps three feet into the air. "Who in the bloody heck are _you_!" The girl breathes as if she had an iron lung.

"Mildred." She smiled, revealing an atrocious over bite and braces too thick to be real. "Hiiiiii." She breathes into Peter's ear.

Peter squeaks, "Eeep!" and falls backwards over his chair trying to get away from his only (and very creepy) fangirl.

"Stand back, you hag!" Snape cries and blasts her out of the way (and all the other fangirls in the place) and runs over to help Peter up (throwing his back out in the process).

"Thanks." Peter says, and sits back down. "We were saying?"

"We were talking about how creepily alike we are."

"Oh, yes…" Peter fidgeted again, playing with the salt shaker.

"Indeed." Snape replied back, gazing longingly at the salt shaker.

The awkward silence picked up again between them.

"So…" Peter said awkwardly.

"Yes…"

"Shall I call for the check?" Peter asked, still playing with the salt shaker.

"Go ahead."

"Alright then. Afterwards, your place or mine?" Peter asked, raising his fat hand to gesture to a waiter that they were done.

Snape looked up at Peter with a hungry gleam in his eyes. "Yours, of course!" Snape licked his lips, "Why break a tradition?"

Woohoo! I wrote another one! It's fairly tame, because the idea about them being so similar has been around in my deranged mind for a while now and I've finally found a way to express it! However, I think the idea of them making a tradition of dating and…other…queasy…things would be revolting enough for those who read this simply for the "Ewww!" factor. So, there you go. :D Oh, and as always, feel free to correct my grammar as I didn't proofread this at all.


End file.
